Old Habits
by McGonagall's Bola
Summary: Calleigh's father falls into old habits, with his new companion... someone not quite unfamiliar to Calleigh. Now she has to come to both their aid. Calleigh/Frank -REWRITTEN!


Calleigh sighed, parking the Hummer in front of her father's favorite pub, the Whiskey Stop. Dana, who owned the place since Calleigh had arrived there in Miami and whom she knew, had called her at work to inform her of Duke's... condition. It'd been a while since last time he'd been too drunk to get home himself and too stubborn to take a taxi. She sighed, and had agreed to come and get him in about half an hour, after her shift was done. And now she was standing there. Oh dad...

She was almost immediately overwhelmed by the smell of booze and cigarettes. She easily spotted her father at the side of the bar, closest to the tap. Calleigh sighed, and seemed to recognize the heavy man sitting beside her father. As she came closer, she realized that the man was Frank, Sergeant Francis 'Frank' Tripp; the Texan Homicide Detective she could get along with so well and liked so much. "Daddy?" Calleigh piped up behind her father. "Oh you were sober so long..."

"Who–" Kenwall Duquesne started before getting interrupted by a drunken hiccup, "even cares if I'm drunk or not?"

"I do, daddy. You should know that."

"Do you, huh? I haven't seen you in ages. I understand. You prefer spending time with your friends instead of with your old man. That's all right." By this time he started almost bellowing. "I just think it's pretty hypocrite to come and say that I cannot even drink a single little glass of whiskey when I want to! Listen. I love you, Lamb-chop, but don't you think I'm man enough to decide when I can and cannot have a glass?"

Calleigh swallowed. "I highly doubt you had only one glass, daddy. And if you could stop after one or two, I wouldn't have to..." She trailed off realizing that this piece of speech was useless, since her father was drunk anyways. Duke wouldn't remember anything of it in the morning anymore. He'd find himself at home and not remember getting there, and he'd realize his daughter had come to get him... again. "Come on, dad. We're going home," she said, supporting him with her petite figure the best she could. She helped him off the high stool.

"Thank you, Calleigh," Dana whispered. "He always talks me into giving him more. It's always already too late when..."

"That's all right, Dana," Calleigh whispered, putting a hand on the other woman's shoulder. "Thank you for calling me again."

"You're welcome," the red haired female replied warmly. "That's at least one of them. He," Dana nodded towards Frank, "came in with your father. Both of them were already pretty drunk. I bet the two of them have been painting the entire town red before they got here. They've been here for a couple of hours. I have seen him before, but I don't have the faintest idea who he is."

The blond ballistics expert sighed once again. "I do. He's actually a police officer; one of my colleagues. I could take him home."

"That would be great, I was planning to close early today."

Calleigh smiled in response. "Hang on, dad," she said, making sure he wasn't going to crash down on the floor, before turning towards her dear colleague. "Frank?" She called, but the Sergeant just kept on staring at something in the distance. "Frank? It's Calleigh."

"She fucking took my children away from me," he spat, drinking the rest of his glass of whiskey in one time. Calleigh assumed that Frank must be talking about his ex wife. "She requested custody and since her damn lawyer portrayed me as a horrible, alcoholic father, she didn't only get custody, but I as well barely have the right to visit them!" The blonde nodded understandingly. She could form a pretty good idea of what both men must have been talking about, when Frank suddenly yelled, "I ain't no alcoholic!"

"Me, neither!" Duke popped up.

Oh boy...

Eventually, with the help of Dana, Calleigh had managed to get both drunk men into the Hummer. She had dropped off her father first, since Duke appeared to be the one to live closest to the pub. He'd allowed his daughter to undo his shoes and socks and jacket and had fallen asleep onto the bed within instants. When she drove up the driveway to Tripp's residence and looked into the rearview mirror, she noticed the balding owner asleep onto the back seat of her departmental Hummer. She couldn't help but chuckle at seeing this: the great Sergeant Tripp asleep and wearing off the effects of alcohol in the back seat of her car.

She sighed. If she ever wanted to get him inside, he'd have to wake up, though. She needed at least a little cooperation to succeed in that. She couldn't carry all of his weight. Calleigh got out of the driver's seat and opened the back door, sitting on her knees to reach him and shake his arm brusquely, as she felt sure gentle wouldn't make a difference. After a moment Frank started grumbling and opened his eyes half. His arm suddenly went around her waist and pulled her close to him. She ended up lying next to him on the back seats. He didn't have the faintest idea what he was doing. "Frank!" she exclaimed. "Come on! Cooperate!"

Frank grumbled again and did as Calleigh asked, cooperate. He drunkenly allowed her to drag him out of the back seat and towards the front door and find his keys in his left pocket. She managed to open the front door with difficulty and drag the Sergeant into his bed. It had been awkward to wander around an unfamiliar house like that. Calleigh let go of the balding man's arm, and he repeated the same movement as downstairs: dragging her next to him tightly into his arms. "Sweetheart..." Frank whispered and nuzzled into her shoulder. Calleigh's eyes widened. Most likely dreaming about his ex, she thought, right when he continued, "Calleigh... My heroine..." He chuckled at what she thought would have been the double meaning of 'heroine'.

The young blonde wriggled herself out of the Sergeant's arms and went down to untie his shoes and pull off his light grey socks before kicking off her high pumps and going back up. Could it be possible that even though he was already so far gone, he meant what he said? She lay down next to him into the bed and watched him. Behind all this drunkenness, Sergeant Francis Tripp was a very honorable man. Honorability was a quality that had always attracted her in any man.

Calleigh didn't think it to be safe to leave Frank in all this mess. He'd be having a pretty serious hangover in the morning. Someone would have to take care of him. The blonde vaguely remembered something about a day off tomorrow and thought maybe she could commit to spending the night and make sure to give him enough crackers and ginger ale and water when he woke up. And aspirins against the head-ache he'd surely have. She sometimes did that for her father, too. Duke hadn't seemed unusually drunk, and since it wasn't precisely the first time, Calleigh knew he would be able to take care of himself. She, however, doubted if the same could be said about Frank. She'd seen him after a couple of beers, but never this drunk and depressed before.

Since he wasn't only her colleague, but as well her friend, Calleigh felt in some way responsible for him. She turned so she lay against Frank's body awkwardly half spooning. His arm almost immediately snuck over her hip and captured her into its grasp. She didn't mind as she herself closed her eyes and dreams about Frank filled her mind. She wondered if he dreamt about her often? It would have been then for sure that Calleigh started dreaming about him.


End file.
